


in the morning, before work

by belforma



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 18:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belforma/pseuds/belforma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not quite domesticity.  More or less a drabble on Akashi and Kise's domestic life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the morning, before work

**Author's Note:**

> written for the domestic meme @ tumblr. in which akashi and kise are adults going steady, kise is a pilot, and nothing's really that much different.

Breakfast’s well on its way by the time he’s up, dragging his feet into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for himself. Every morning at home proceeds in the same way: waking up alone, following the din of cooking that falls over the quiet house, sitting in heavy silence that he’s never gotten used to, but small talk feels like words wasted.

It’s okay, though. Maybe it’s all the better. It’s a familiar feeling, regardless, something well-learned over the years: keeping his mouth shut until he feels he might burst, settling all his impulses, respecting Akashi’s silence.

(It was not the easiest lesson.)

Akashi could be a waiter, easily, but the thought makes Kise laugh — for all his fantastic coordination, no one would tip for his attitude, and he’d have too much attitude to serve, anyway. In the same way, it tickles him that Akashi wakes up early to serve him his breakfast — but it’s not something he’d take for granted.

Still, it’s well-established he doesn’t need to thank him when he sets a plate of warm food down in front of him. There’s nothing especially endearing in the expression outside of the thought; Akashi never smiles sweetly at him, or tells him to _enjoy_ in a chipper fashion, and if he didn’t know better he might think his boyfriend dislikes it, but —

“Did you sleep well?” he asks from across the table.

Small talk isn’t always wasted words. (Small talk doesn’t always have to be small talk.)

“I’d sleep better if you didn’t wake up so early.” He’s never lost that peculiar whine. “I can cook, too.”

“Barely.”

“Well — I don’t need breakfast first thing in the morning, either.”

He sighs in the ensuing silence, not that he means to.

“You could at least stay in bed.”

“You have an early flight.”

“I’d rather spend my morning with you.”

He finds himself frowning. He finds akashi staring through him with those eyes of his. It would be easy to label his expression as bored, but — that’s not really true, he doesn’t think. His visual analysis stops so short when it comes to the finer things, and it only became unfair when those details became so important.

“Where are you going, again?”

And the conversation goes on.


End file.
